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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



NORT' SHOR' VERSES 



NORT' SHOR' 
VERSES 



By 
RICHARD D. WARE 



BOSTON 

Luce & Company 
1917 






Copyright, 1917, by 
L. E. Bassett 



r I "^ 
SEP 2S 1917 



eCLA473760 



CONTENTS 

Tranquil McGraw i 

The Migrant 4 

The Smelt Shanty 7 

Ma' Lou' II 

The Girls 14 

The Sandpiper 17 

The Silver Thaw 19 

The Coffin 24 

The Chickens 2^ 

The Masterpiece 30 

The Lobster Boats 34 

Mr. Saltonstall 37 

The Ghost 39 

The Teamsters 42 

The Herring Fishing 44 

The Poachers 46 

Philomele 50 

The Dance 52 

The Lawsuit 56 

The Sinkbox 60 



FOREWORD 

AFLAT country, covered with fir and spruce 
to sandy beach or wide areas of marsh or 
tundra. Looking from the sea, an untouched 
forest. Looking from its shade, waste and desert 
places. 

Down through the evergreens come shallow rivers, 
thoroughfares to and from the back land for canoes 
and dugouts, here and there the cleared land of farms 
along the banks. 

Off shore from the wide mouths of some of these 
streams, a line of outer beach, cast up in the never 
ending struggle between tide and current, making wide 
shallow bays between. 

Beach and bay seem salient of this North Shore of 
New Brunswick between the Miramichi and Bay 
Chaleur. 

THE BEACH 

The gleaming constellations fade away 
Till in the east alone the morning star 
Shines like a beacon on the outer bar, 
And lights its pathway far across the bay. 
I. 



11. Nort^ Shor' Verses 

Into the sea the curtains of the night 

Roll down, tinged roseate ere they disappear. 

While overhead the opal sky grows clear, 

All radiant with the great sun's dawning light. 

Out from the gloom, far as the eye can reach, 
Blending with sea and sky into the mist 
Where the wide bay and river keep their tryst, 
Looms the dark shadow of the long low beach. 

All desolate it lies save here and there 
A gray, storm beaten hut, where in the spring 
The fisher folk their hard won booty bring. 
And make rude shelter till the winds are fair. 

A band of horses, scattered lowing herds 
Of cattle turned half wild roam there, alone 
Of all the beasts to claim it for their own 
And hold a tenure in that realm of birds. 

High in the air, arrayed in echelon, 

The honking geese come from their northern isles. 

Across the sky in undulating files 

Long lines of sable cormorants wing on. 



Nort' Shor^ Verses HI. 

Far in the shallows lonely herons stand, 
Like sentinels on guard upon their posts, 
Croaking hoarse warning to the feathered hosts 
Of coming peril to their peaceful land. 

On the low bars the herring gull's harsh cries 
Make protest, while the burgomaster scolds 
For some rare morsel which his subject holds 
As treasure trove, and clamors for the prize. 

Like flakes of foam tossed on a listless wind 
White kittiwakes with gentle call flit by. 
And whirling hordes of restless terns give cry 
Till with their screams the very skies are dinned. 

The turnstone chuckles as he breaks his fast. 
The strident curlew making answer shrill. 
The yelping tatlers, watchful, never still. 
Mock at the whistling plover speeding past. 

All these and more join in the symphony, 
Making the solitude more wild and lone, 
While never ceasing, rolls in undertone. 
The diapason of the mighty sea. 



IV. Nort' Shor' Verses 

Many of the people who live here are French, 
descendants of the old time Acadians. Many English, 
meaning by that persons of English, Scotch or Irish 
descent, live here too, and it is natural that in their 
intimate intercourse the persons of both races should 
undertake to speak the language of their neighbors. 
The English purport to speak French, rather shame- 
facedly. The educated persons of French descent 
speak as good English as one generally hears, but it 
is the speech of the Frenchman of the farm, the fish- 
ing boat or the lumber camp which has the flavor and 
tang to it which makes his English interesting. There 
is no fixed standard of conformity. It is doubtful it 
a given speaker would express himself in exactly the 
same way a second time. So it is impossible to say 
that all the French on the North Shore speak English 
as I have attempted to set it down in their mode here. 
But a kind of dominant form appears from averaging 
personal equations and that I have endeavored to adopt 
and adapt to verse. 

The vocabulary of these people is small for their 
lives are very limited. They are closely in touch with 
the seasons and the occupations and food supply which 
come with them. The English words for all these 
things they know and use. They do most of their 



Nort' Shor' Verses V. 

swearing in English, as does the rest of the world. 
Broadly speaking, they have an English vocabulary 
for things, but not for thoughts. They still think in 
French. 

All this makes the words at the disposal of one who 
wishes to express these people in verse very few in 
number, so perforce one must be simple in recording 
their simple themes. In the matter of pronunciation, 
certain words which would never even force a rhyme 
in academic English are entirely consonant as they are 
spoken on the Nort' Shor'. 

And now to some of the people there and the things 
of which they speak. 

R. D. W. 



NORT' SHOR' VERSES 



TRANQUIL McGRAW 

Bonjou' M'sieu'; McGraw? Tranquil? 
La maison ? Ouai ; ou demeure-t-il ? 
Ouai, je comprends ; vous parlez bien 
Monsieur; vous etes Americain? 
Je croyais; mais je park I'Anglais; 
Dat be more easier to say 
For you? I work once at Bangor; 
I know dat man — Tranquil McGraw. 

He fine man too; stonemason? Ouai; 
De bes' along de whole Nort' Shor' ; 
He get big wages every day ! 
From Burn' Church to St. Isadore 
Dey sen' for heem, an' Chatham too 
Sometam, when dere is work to do. 
De Neguac stone church — you saw? 
He boss dat job — Tranquil McGraw. 

De pries', he proud o' dat all right; 
Fine buildin' for de peop' live dere. 
Out in de bay it mak' great sight, 

I 



Nort' Shor' Verses 

An' on de Sunday for de prayer 
De team' dey come from all aroun'; 
In all de parish you won't foun' 
One team dat isn' goin' for 
Dat church he buil' — Tranquil McGraw 



I go dere once ; de priest he spe'k 
About de house upon de rock ; 
How she not fall in de eart'qu'eke 
But Stan' up strong again' de shock 
An' fall not, when de oders fall; 
An' all de eye turn to de wall. 
Dey un'erstan' good, when dey saw 
God's house he buil' — Tranquil McGraw. 



An' den de pries' say by de work 
You know de man, or something lak; 
Le Bon Dieu, He no call de shirk 
Xor tak' to Heem de man dat strike. 
An' den I t'ink, eef He call me 
Some day, chez moi, at Tracadie, 
I be all right ; pas peur pour moi 
Eef I lak' heem — Tranquil McGraw. 



Nort' Shor' Verses 

You buir de house? He ees de man 
You want for dat, ah, c'est b'en sure; 
He lay de stone to mak' her stan' 
Jus' like de rock in de scripture. 
He work like two man all alone ! 
He mix de mort', he face de stone; 
He fix de stove-pipe so she draw, — 
He dam fine man— Tranquil McGraw. 



THE MIGRANT 

We tak de lobster boat one day, 

Me an' de ole Philos 

An sail aroun' besi' de bay 

Out w'ere de codfish was ; 

Ten' 'leven f adorn w'ere we lay; 

De Ian' seem almos' los'. 

We catch dem purty good all right 

Until de tide turn nor' 

W'en dey seem los' de appetite 

An' won' tak clam no mor. 

An' den de win' she come, a fright, 

Nor'wes' right off de shor'. 

Philos he say she goin' to las' 
An' he right too, ba gee! 
Befor' we got de anchor fas' 
She's takin' on de sea, 
But we h'ist all de sail we da's 
An' beat for de gully. 
4 



Nort' Shor' Verses 

She poun' an' jump like anyt'ing; 
I never see de wors'; 
De squall dey hit her an' she swing 
Mos' clear off on de co'rs', 
Wen all to once we hear de sing 
Of leetle bird dat's los'. 

We see heem comin' 'cross de wave 

All jompin' up aroun'; 

One tarn he mak eet de close shave, — 

We tink dat tarn he drown, 

But he jomp too; he purty brave 

Way off dere off de groun'. 

He's comin' for de boat for sure. 

An' w'at you t'ink o' dat ! 

De firs' place w'ere he come aboar' 

Was on Philos' ole hat, 

Lak fedder trimmin' de girl' wore 

He sit so still an' plat. 

He still! He soun' asleep, dat's w'y; 

De minute he Ian' dere 

He grab de hat an' close de eye; 



Nort' Shor' Verses 

He sure all be't for fair; 
An' Philos lay de hat insi', — 
He res' mos' quiet dere. 

Bimeby he wake all right encore ; 

He ruffle up de coat 

An' pick for bug aroun' de boar' 

An' mak chirp in de t'roat. 

He seem no want to fly some more ; 

Jus' tromp aroun' de boat. 

He stay wit' us de whole way t'rough 

Till we come in de bay, 

So calm an' still you'd never knew 

De blow outsi' dat day. 

An' den de leetle feller flew 

Off to de beach away. 

An' ole Philos he say lak priere, 

He watchin' at heem go, 

"Wen I am ole an' wore wit' care 

I t'ink I'd lak to know 

Dere'U be a boat to tak me w'ere 

It's calm an' still, jus' so." 



THE SMELT SHANTY 

Dose leetle house, tar-pape' an' lat'? 

Dey everyw'ere plaintee : 

You ax dey use for tak de bat'? 

Non, dose be smelt shantee. 

De fisherman dey Hve in dose 

De winter on de ice ; 

No matter how de col' win' blows 

Dey're warm you be surpris'. 

Eet mos lak village on de bay 
After de firs' ice come, 
Wen all de man mak prepare 
An breeng de leetle home. 
De smelt be leetle feesh all right 
But beeg t'ing for de peop'. 
Some tam de one haul on de night 
Pay all de winter keep. 

You on de jomp on all de tide' 
De fishin' bad nor good, 
7 



8 Nort' Shor' Verses 

An' res' de w'ile dey set in side 
An' mak pile on de wood. 
Some tarn some feller fetch de treat 
Wit some f rien' dat he foun', 
An' all pile on de bonk an' seat 
An' tell de yarn aroun'. 

I 'member me I hear dat way 

About de tarn Jock Breaux 

Get mash hess'f de mos' firs' day 

He try mak new seine go. 

De seine he never work befor'; 

She shap' lak de beeg purse ; 

She come all roll up from de stor' 

An' have to spread her firs'. 

So Jock he open up her mout' 

For measure on piquet 

An' start to turn her insi' out 

Befor' he mak her set. 

She won' come out so he crawl in 

To catch hoi' on de en' 

An' den hees tro'ble dey begin 

Lak w'at de devil sen'. 



Nort' Shor' Verses 

He mash de button on de sleeve 

An' w'en he try feex dat 

De win' she give de seine a heave 

An' she knock off de hat. 

He grab for heem, de seine grab too, 

An' mash de feet aroun', 

An' w'en he try to haul dem t'rough, 

She mak de arm fas' boun'. 

An' den he holler an' he bawl 

All tie' lak bag o' meal, 

An' roun' de ice he flop an' crawl 

Jus' lak strange kin' o' seal. 

Some feller' in de shantee near 

All come a-jompin' out, 

An' can' make out de firs' dey hear 

Wat all de row about. 

Mos' o' de word he lettin' go, 
Jus' same w'en makin' priere. 
But w'en dey see ol' Jock dey know 
Soch t'ing don' come from dere. 
De t'ing he roar I won' tell you ; 
Mos' everyt'ing he say, 
An' sure I hope dat de bon Dieu 
Have turn de ear away. 



10 Nort' Shor' Verses 

Dose fellers mos die laffin' 'fore 

Dey get him out again, 

An' den dey feex t'ing up once more 

An' help heem wit' de seine. 

But dey don' chop for heem no hole, 

For dere' no need to do; 

De way ole Jock he swear dey tol' 

Jus' melt de ice clear t'rough. 



MA' LOU' 

We don' see de oV Ma' Lou' 
Polin' up along de shor' 
From de Portage any mor', 
For he die de fall afor', 
An' de ole patch'up canoe 
She done for too. 

Fonny t'ing dat name, dat's true; 
"Bad wolf" w'at it mean you say, 
For he not'ing 't all dat way; 
Bon courage an' toujou'gaie, 
Mos' lak some kin' dog you knew 
Nor de Ma' Lou. 

All hees life he ron de bay 
In de ol' patch'up canoe. 
I suppose she once be new 
Afore all de leak' come t'rough, 
But he tar her up some way 
An' mak her stay. 
II 



12 Nort' Shor' Verses 

But he proud o' her, no fear, 
An' de ol' man alway' say 
She de fas'est on de bay 
If he feex her up some day; 
She be all right sure nex' year 
If he be here. 

He go shootin' in de fall 
On de ol' sink-box he buil' 
Off de ol' boar' off de mill 
Leakin' so she lak to fill 
Wen dere any kin' o' squall 
Or wave at all. 

But he proud o' her, no fear, 
An' de ol' man alway' say 
She de tightes' on de bay 
If he feex her up some day; 
She be all right sure nex' year 
If he be here. 

An' you never see de wors' 
Dan de gun all tie wit' tow 
An' de lock all rus' up so 



Nort' Shor' Verses 13 

Mos' de tarn she never go ; 
Me, I let de bird' go firs' 
For fear she burs'. 

But he proud o' her, no fear, 
An' de ol' man alway' say 
She shoot hardes' on de bay 
If he fix her up some day. 
She be all right sure nex' year 
If he be here. 

Everyt'ing he have de bes'; 
All content and satisfy : 
Jus' de sam' he goin' to try 
Mak her better by an' by; 
But he never mak success 
To do de res'. 

An' now it come dis year 
An' de ol' patch'up canoe 
An' de sink-box an' gun too 
Dey are all t'rough; 
For dey all know purty clear 
Dat he ain't here. 



THE GIRLS 

De winter he is gone at las'; 

I know she soon be spring; 

De goose he honkin' in de bay 

An' leetle bird mak sing. 

But dere's no need o' e'der dera 

Be tellin' dat to me 

Wen flock o' girl come back some more 

Head* for de factoree. 

Girl', girl', girl'! 

Dey're all come in for hirin'. 

Girl', girl', girl'! 

Dey're all aroun' de place. 

Off de back wood' dey're arrivin', 

Off de farm' dey come a-drivin' 

An' ba gee, I lak to see dem 

Wit' de purty laffin' face. 

Dey come between de ice go out 
An' w'en de herraw run, 
Two, t'ree day an' dey're gone ag'in 
14 



Nort' Shor' Verses 15 

Ontil de fishin's done. 

Dey pick de lobster for de can, — 

Dat's w'at de job dere be, 

But plaintee girl she pick her man 

Off on de factoree. 

Girl', girr, girl' ! etc. 

An' w'en she got heem pick' an can' 

An' tout b'en marie 

Dere never come de spring some more 

Dat she can' kip away. 

I spec' she 'member her dat night 

Wen he ax her to be 

Hees famme — an' squeeze her purty tight 

Off on de factoree. 

Girl', girl', girl' ! etc. 

Wen she gran'mere she jus' de same'; 

She get too ol' to teach ; 

She hire wit' de yo'nges' girl 

An' rosh off on de beach. 

She mak de pique-nique over dere 



i6 Nort' Shor' Verses 

An' one t'ing certainlee, 

De girl' stay girl' all res' her life 

Off on de factoree. 

Girl', girl', girl'! etc. 



THE SANDPIPER 

In winter tarn it purty still along de bay an' in de wood' 
Wen all de bird' dey gone away ; 
It mak too col' for dem to stay 
Wit'out no wood pile an' no food, 
But dey come back jus' soon dey can; dey lak de 
Nort' Shor' purty good. 

De ole goose come along de firs', right off de open 

water show ; 
He mus' be watchin' off de sky 
For see w'ich course he mak de fly 
So queek he always seem to know. 
He soun' good too w'en he call out de spring she come 

an' winter go. 

Some morn' bimeby you wak' by hear de robin 

singin' in de tree ; 
It bon fortune he in your fiel' ; 
De grain an' potat' mak gran' yiel' 
Were de firs' robin firs' get see. 

17 



i8 Nort' Shor' Verses 

It fine to see heem sittin' dere an' hear heem mak de 
melodie. 

An' w'en de ice is off de shor' you go an' tak de ole 

bateau 
For set de net for de herraw; 
An' roun' de crick de firs' you saw 
De leetle san' snipe an' you know 
De musique feller come for shor' w'en he burs' out an' 

let her go. 

An' it's toodle-e-oodle-e-oo ! he say 
W'en he come back again in de spring. 
It mus' be de springtam get into de t'roat 
For de fall he don' say mos' not'ing. 
Toodle-e-oodle-e-oodle-e-oo ! 
Toodle-e-oodle-e-oo ! 

An' de leetle bird' song be so full o' de glad 
It set de man' heart singin' too. 



THE SILVER THAW 

De silver t'aw? I know dat t'ing; 

La gelee blanche we call; 

She come mos' tarn jus' 'fore de spring, 

Sometam late in de fall, 

Wen de rain she come an' it's col', col', col', 

An' she freeze on de bush and grass. 

An' de tree' ben' down wit' w'at dey hoi' 

On de branch, touts pleins de glace. 

Wen de storm she go an' de sun he shine 

Ba gee, it mak' great sight. 

Wen all de fiel' an' bush an' vine 

Mak' rainbow wit' de light. 

De win' she mak' dem jomp an' play. 

An' 'sh-la! in de ear 

Soun' leetle bell lak cloches des fays 

Meex een de air you hear. 

De birch she purties' of all 
Sure t'ing, I t'ink mesel', 
All w'ite she gleam t'ru de crystal 
19 



20 Nort' Shor' Verses 

Lak gran' bois de chandelle. 

De spruce an' var mak not moch show ; 

Dey froze on de solid jonk, 

Wit' leetle glaciers dat grow 

On de branch out from de tronk. 



De silver t'aw she fine to see 
Wen de -wedder turn roun' gran', 
But all tarn too I 'member, me, 
She hard on de poor man. 
Dere's one tam 'bout t'ree year ago 
Dis parish don' forget, 
Wen to de door o' Jean Comeau 
De silver t'aw brought deat'. 



Jean build heem small cabane dat fall 

On lot by de Portage. 

He got no money mos' at all 

But plaintee bon courage, 

So femme an' bebe dere he bring 

Wile he go in de wood' 

An' earn de money till de spring 

Wen he mak feex heem good. 



Nort' Shor' Verses 2i 

So dere dey live de winter t'rough, 

Julie an' le bebe ; 

It purty lonesome out dere too, — 

Not many team dat way. 

I go dere once to mak de smile 

An' foun' de bebe seek, 

An' w'en I look at de woodpile 

I hope dat Jean come queek. 

'Fore dat, two — t'ree day after den, 

De silver t'aw come firs', 

An' I don' mos' have min' me w'en 

I never see de wors'. 

De win' she come up in de night 

Wil' wit' de sleet an' rain. 

I won'er eef ma roof on tight 

She blow soch horricane. 

Nex' mornin' Jean he come to me ; 
He come out day before 
An' spen' de night at Tracadie, — 
Want somet'ings off de store. 
Dat night he buy hees groceries 
An pack on hees han'-sled 



Nort' Shor' Verses 

An' come my house so moch airlee 
I mos' not out my bed. 

He have some tea an' den we go ; 

I tak' part of hees load. 

De ice she ma' de fine rainbow 

An' good haul on de road. 

An' Jean he laugh an' talk so gay 

De winter t'rough all right 

Dat I could not'ing 'tall to say, — 

An' den hees face turn w'ite. 

De leetle house stan' dere all right, — 

Wit'out no roof at all. 

De win' blow heem off on de night; 

Mos' to de road he fall. 

De door swing open mak de moan 

Lak some one seek to die, 

An' Jean he rosh t'rough dere alone 

De fear in bot' his eye. 

Den me, — an' oh, Bon Dieu I see 
Wat pauvre Jean Comeau saw 
Wen he come foun' hees familee 
Deat in de silver t'aw. 



Nort' Shor' Verses 23 

Behin' de empty stove she crawl, 
La femme wit' le bebe, 
All wrap in quilt an' leetle shawl 
To keep de col' away. 

She do her bes', but ah, tout vain, 

Wen roof an' stove-pipe go. 

Dey die dere in de col' an' rain 

Jus' lak we fin' dem so. 

Tout cr>^stal were dey settin' dere, — 

An' seem de bes' rainbow 

Com' jompin' in de sunlight w'ere 

Bebe hees quilt mak' show. 



THE COFFIN 

Sometam eet Strang' how t'ing come 'roun' 

Nobody know pourquoi ; 

Mos' any place you go you foun' 

Some fonny t'ing you saw. 

Lak tam w'en Beel Comeau he die 

An' dey can' fin' no boar', 

For mak sarceuil for heem to lie ; 

Dat comical for sure. 

Beel he poor man but he use' say 

Dere's one t'ing he mos' proud, 

Dat ees he bein' pure Frangais 

An' not lak de meex crowd. 

He say France mos' gran' in de worl' 

Of all de ole co'ntree. 

An' show you w'ere he foun' it tol' 

In book you call his'tree. 

De Revolution dey have 
He say mak all man free, 
Instead of bein' lak de slav' 
24 



Nort' Shor' Verses 25 

Lak all poor man mus' be. 

He know de song dey mak dat tarn, — 

De Marseillaise dey call, 

An' eet fine musique too, by dam!, 

Eet mak de back jus' crawl. 



Beel go to Chatham once and see 

A French sheep by de shor', 

A flyin' flag off ole co'ntree 

Dey call de tri-color. 

Dat flag, she mak Beel moch excite; 

She red an' w'ite an' blue. 

An' he get purty dronk dat night 

Wile he drink her "salut !" 



Well, fore he die, anoder sheep, 
De "Rolluf," she get wreck'. 
An' Snowball buy her for to streep; 
She purty bad I 'spec'. 
An' on de deck was small cabane 
De boss he say no good, 
An' give to me an' oder man 
For mak de fire wood. 



26 Nort' Shor' Verses 

Insi' de cabane all paint' new 
Wit' plaintee beeg gol' line; 
Mos' every color on her too; 
Well b'ys ! eet mak her fine. 
But we bre'k her up bes' we can ; 
Save window an' de door', 
An' den mes'f an' oder man 
Pole piece' 'cross by our shor'. 

Den Beel he die afore de fall 
An' hees famme she sen' wor', 
Dere can' be enterrement at all 
Wit'out she get some boar'. 
An' me, I t'ink of de cabane 
An' sen' she make dose do; 
An' w'en I see, dere Beel lie, gran' 
Wit' red an w'ite an' blue. 



THE CHICKENS 

Ned Bushey he toF me dat yarn; 

He say it true t'ing too, — 

An' ole Ned he sure hones' man 

For all me never knew, — 

'Bout dat tam w'en all hees poulets 

An' rooster too he tell 

Get dronk jus' lak in de ole tam 

De night afore Noel. 

Dat mornin' he drive home from town 

Wit' somet'ing from de store, 

De oatmeal, rice, raisin', cornmeal 

An' oder t'ing some more, 

An' den, it comin' Chris'mas tam 

Wi't all dose t'ing to eat 

He get two bottle rye w'iskey 

To mak hees frien' de treat. 

Le gros garqon he bring beeg box 
To tak de t'ing he fin', 
W'en up he sleep an' down he go 
Jus' right on de behin'. 
27 



28 Nort' Shor' Verses 

De bottle brek, de bag mak tear; 
De rice an' meal all wet, 
Wit' raisin scatter lak gateau, 
Mak plaintee mess you bet. 

Dere's not'ing ain' no good at all. 

So Ned he turn aroun' 

An' say to t'row de stoff away 

Wile he drive back to town. 

Wen he come back hees famme meet heem ; 

"Come queeck, come queeck," she say; 

"Jus' put de boss' up in de barn 

An' come see les poulets." 

He go, and dere upon de floor 

Lie de 'ole familee, 

Upon de side, upon de back. 

Touts mort, mos' certainlee. 

Dey t'ink de poison come to dem 

An' no be right to sell ; 

Jus' same de famme t'ink she make save 

De fedder jus' as well. 

So her an' de yo'ng girl tak hoi' 
An' do dat job all right. 



Nort' Shor' V'erses 29 

De fedder dey mos' fill one tick 
Wen dey get t'rough come night. 
Dey leave de bird all in de pile, 
Tak tick an come away, 
An' all han' go to bed bimeby, 
Ontil com' Chris'mas day. 

Dey all wak' up airlee nex* day 

By hear de rooster crow. 

An' dere he be wit' de poulets 

Stan' out dere in de snow! 

He scratch de groun' an' lift de head 

An' give salut de morn', 

Not so moch fedder on de back 

Lak w'en he hatch an' born. 



De bird don' seem moch min' de col' 

A-walkin' roun' outsi', 

But mak de sight so comical 

Ole Ned laff mos' to die. 

An' den he say, jus' to heesee'f 

Wile he crawl in de bed, 

"It better snow have on de feet 

D'an ice upon de head." 



THE MASTERPIECE 

Too bad how plaintee feller swear, 

But dey don' mean not'ing; 

Dey jus' mak beeg noise wit' de mout' 

Lak robin have to sing, 

But you ought'er hear ol' Jock Breaux 

Some tam he let her go ! 

He Frenchman an' spe'k English too. 

So he know all de word'. 

He keep bot' language on de jomp 

De wors' you never heard, 

Sure ycu ought'er hear ol' Jock Breaux 

Some tam he let her go ! 

La Veille des Touts Saints — you know dat, 
Wat come roun' in de fall, — 
De boy' an' girl' play all kin' treeck 
An' no one min' at all, — 
But you ought'er hear ol' Jock Breaux 
Some tam he let her go ! 
30 



Nort' Shor' Verses 31 

De or peop' say de devil com' 
An' hunt de soul' dat night, 
An' so dey burn lamp' an' chandelle 
For scare heem wit' de light; 
But he never hear ol' Jock Breaux 
Some tam he let her go ! 

An' on dat night dey mak' de priere 

Afore dey blow dem out, 

Deirse'f and familee for save 

From devil flyin' 'bout. 

An' you ought'er hear ol' Jock Breaux 

Some tam he let her go ! 

Some boy' know Jock Breaux do dis t'ing 

An' bring de beeg black ram 

Wit' ogly eye an' long curl' horn 

An' wait for hees bed tam. 

An' you ought'er hear ol' Jock Breaux 

Some tam he let her go. 

Dey watch ontil he kneelin' dere 
An' den dey h'is' de ram, 
An' in de middle o' de priere 



32 Nort' Shor' Verses 

Right t'rough de window — ^bam ! 

An' you ought'er hear ol' Jock Breaux 

Some tarn he let her go! 

He tak one look, — an' w'en he see 

De devil dere hese'f, 

Wit' horn an' tail an' beeg red eye, 

He almos' los' hees bre'f : 

An' you ought'er hear ol' Jock Breaux 

Some tarn he let her go ! 

De ram he bawl an' shak' de horn 

An' Jock jomp off de floor. 

Right t'rough de oder window-sash, — 

Don' bodder wit' no door, 

An' you ought'er hear ol' Jock Breaux 

Some tam he let her go ! 

But w'en he get outsi' de house 

An' foun' he get away 

He shout 'bout bonder' kin' o' damn 

An' mos' de sam sacres. 

Sure you ought'er hear ol' Jock Breaux, 

Dat tam he let her go ! 



Nort' Shor' Verses 33 

He spen' de night at neighbor' house ; 

He won' dare go back home, 

An' you go ax heem, he say now 

Sure 'nuf de devil com', 

But you'll never hear ol' Jock Breaux 

Lak de tam he let her go ! 



THE LOBSTER BOATS 

From 'Scuminac to Shippegan, 

Along de 'ole Nort' Slior', 

From Miscou on to Caraquet, 

An' den ag'in some mor', 

Men are workin' on de fact'ree beach' 

Afor' de bre'k o' day ; 

All han' torn out to ron de line' 

An' get de boat' away. 

Torn out ! Lonch ho ! Up you're gettin dere ! 
Com' ! Let's 'ear som' feet in dere a-t'ompin' on de 
flo'r! 

Wak' up b'ys ! Get your tea ! 

Shak' up b'ys! Come wit' me 

Were de boat' is layin' 

Out dere on de shor'. 

Dey're layin' up among de grass. 
De keel' all frozen in, 
But dere's a crew o' t'orty man 
34 



Nort' Shor' Verses 35 

To haul dem clear ag'in ; 

An' de fair full moon is shinin' 

To 'elp dem tak' de hoi', 

An' eet mak' de dirty oiler' 

Look lak' suit' o' gleamin' gol'. 



Torn out! Lonch ho! Up you're gettin' dere! 
Com' ! Let's 'ear som' feet in dere a-t'ompin' on de 
fio'r! 

Wak' up b'ys ! Get your tea I 

Shak' up b'ys ! Come wit' me 

Were de boat' is layin' 

Out dere on de shor'. 



'Eave up de ballas' into her 

An' stow de c'il' o' line ! 

Mak' fas' de buoy' an' anchor' dere! 

De tide's a-raisin' fine ! 

All clear! H'is' up de for's'l, — vite! 

De wave' is at her snout ! 

Aboar', aboar', an' min' de sheet! 

De b'ys will shov' 'er out! 



36 Nort' Shor' Verses 

Now b'ys ! Lift 'er b'ys ! Chock a roller dere ! 
Ever}^body tak' a leetle all aroun' de boat! 

Jack 'er b'ys! jomp 'er b'ys ! 

Walk 'er b'ys ! homp'er b'ys ! 

Dere she goes a-roUin' ! 

W'oop-ee! she's afloat! 



MR. SALTONSTALL 

I 'member me mos' twenty year' 
De firs' Americain' com' 'ere 
For shootin' on de beach an' flat' ; 
Dey seem to fin' gran' sport in dat. 
Dey kin' man too; I know mos' all; 
I guide for Mr. Saltumstall. 

At John Wishar' dey use' to boar'. 
I get my man 'tween t'ree an' four 
An' den we sail across de bay 
To mak' de beach 'for' bre'k o' day. 
De bird' sure dere jos' at de dawn, 
An' so be Mr. Sollonstorn. 

'Fore den me call all dem bird' snipe, 
But he know forty name' ba cripe', 
De black breas'— an' de red breas' too, 
De torn-ston', yallerleg, corlew ; 
I learn dem all an' plaintee mor' 
Wen I guide Mr. Saltonstor'. 
37 



38 Nort' Shor' Verses 

One tarn we camp in ol' fact'ree, 
An' ba gosh how he 'ate de flea ! 
Dere plaintee dose out on de beach, 
An' sure dey go for heem lak leech. 
"De leetle fellers," w'at he call. 
Wen I guide Mr. Sontalsall. 

Wen he go he give me de suit 
O' oiler' an' hees robber boot' 
He wear up 'ere, an two box' shell' ; 
Ba gee, he tre't me purty well. 
I wish he comin' back nex' fall 
An' me guide Mr. SoUumstall. 



^ THE GHOST 



Las' 'arves' tarn Will Wishart foun' 
He have de fine crop in de groun' 

O' potat'. 
Dey mus' be dog, so he engage 
A crowd from down by de Portage 

To do dat. 

Dey all get dere plaintee airlee ; 
Will kip de store an' have good tea 

An' molass'. 
He give dem wages an' four meal' ; 
He know how he mus' mak' dem feel 

For work fas'. 

All hand' work hard, de girl' an' men, 
An' Will, he glad to see de en' 

So com' queeck, 
W'en after workin' two, t'ree day, 
Com' evenin' dey say dey won' stay,- 

Dey're 'omeseeck! 
39 



40 Nort' Shor' Verses 

Will, he sure got dat t'ing to stop; 
Mebbe he lose de 'ole hees crop 

If dey go. 
He say dey go an' get deir tea, 
An' w'ile dey're eatin', Will dey see 

Away go. 

Dat seem all right, so dey hang 'roun' 
Ontil eet gettin' dark dey foun' 

For walkin'. 
An' den de 'ole crowd start along 
Wit' plaintee shout, an' laugh an' song 

An' talkin'. 

Dey com' along to de causeway 
All proud to mak' de get-away. 

An' stop dere. 
From out a bush dere com' a groan; 
An' den a w'ite t'ing mak' a moan! 

Two drop dere. 

One holler "qu'ous ce que ci que c'aw!" 
Anodder, "w'at's dat t'ing I saw 
A-wavin !" 



Nort' Shor' Verses 41 

"A ghos' !" anodder one yell out, 
An' all hand' torn aroun' about 
A-ravin'. 

Two feller tak' across de ma'sh, 

An' Will could hear mor'n t'orty spash' 

O' fallin' 
As he Stan' dere an' wave de sheet 
He'd wrop hees se'f de head an' feet, 

An' bawlin'. 

Wen he com' 'onie dere was de crowd, 
So scare' no one dare spik aloud 

Wen he say 
''You t'ink you stick to de potat'? 
I t'ought I hear some bawlin' at 

De causeway." 

Nex' day dey dig away lak mad; 
Mos' every one t'ink sure dey had 

A warnin'. 
An' w'en com' evenin', dere's de crop; 
Ba gee, Will have to let dem stop 

Till mornin'. 



THE TEAMSTERS 

Aw, de haulin's well mos' done ; 

Anodder touch o' sun 

Sure mak' de road' a fright, altogedder. 

De ice she goin' fas an' eet never boun' to las' 

Onless dere com' a shif o' nor'-wes' wedder. 

De ronner' grit an' grin' 

An' de track dey leave behin' 

Cut' right down to de groun' in forty place'. 

De bridge', dey are all bare 

An' she' meltin' everyw'ere. 

Eet play 'Ell on de riggin' an' de trace'. 

Haulin' down to Tracadie, 

To Tracadie, to Tracadie, 

Any man who say can 'ave de job for all o' me. 

Liftin', shiftin' every load, 

Haulin', crawlin' down de road, 

Dat's de trip we mak to Tracadie. 

But w'en we all get t'rough, 
De firs' t'ing dere's to do 
Is mak' de start de neares' place is handy, 
42 



Nort' Shor' Verses 43 

Wit' som' "square face" up to Joe' 

For de finger' an' de toe' 

Or leetle drink oflf Charley' ole French brandy. 

He say " *ave dis one wit' me," 

An' de b'ys dey all agree, 

An' de bottle go a-tackin' 'cross de table 

Till dey 're jos' a leetle full ; — 

Den dere's jos' anodder pull 

An' we go an' get de horse' out in de stable. 

Trottin' 'ome from Tracadie, 

From Tracadie, from Tracadie, 

Anyman an' everyman feel' jos' as fine as me. 

Jinglin' janglin' up de road. 

Every b'y's a proper load 

Wen he start' away from Tracadie. 



THE HERRING FISHING 

Wen de ice she go out, aroun' de first' o' May 
Den de herraw dey com' een down to Neguac bay. 
No one know' w'en de word com' t'rough, 
So eet's grab all de net' an' shove de canoe, 
An' all hand' aboar' for Hay Islan'. 

All de boat' an' de scow' an' de leaky ol' bateaux 
An' de pirog' an' canoe', anyt'ing to mak' her go. 
Start along wit' de sail an' de paddle an' de pole 
For to fetch wit' de tide at de bass fishin' hole. 
All hand' boun' for Hay Islan'. 

Den dey tie on de stone an' drive de picquet pole'. 
An' dey set de ol' net' on de channel by de shoal 
Were de weed' an' de grass cover' t'ick w'it' de spawn, 
An' den mak' de camp on de beach till de mom' 
An' de flood o' de tide at Hay Islan'. 

All de float' dey be down an' dat mean de net' be full, 
An' dey know dat ees so w'en dey tak' hoi' for de pull. 
Dere dey hang in de mash' by de bonder' in de row, 

44 



Nort' Shor' Verses 45 

An' dey shine in de sun lak de gran' rainbow, 
All roun' de boat' at Hay Islan'. 

Wen dey shak' out de feesh, all de flappin' o' de tail' 
On de boat' feel de air full o' shinin' silver scale' 
An' dey steeck on de face an' de w'isker' an' de han' 
So dat w'ich be de herraw an' w'ich be de man 
Dat hard to say at Hay Islan'. 



THE POACHERS 

De law, she fonny t'ing ba gee ; 
Som' tarn she mak' de common sense 
An' oder tarn she mak' eet be 
Som' leetle t'ing de grand offence. 
Now tak' eet een dese riviere 
De salmon ac' soch fonny way 
Dey don' ron up 'fore September 
An' den be close tam, de law say. 

An' t'ink o' de poor man who see 
De beeg feesh jompin' by hees door 
Wit' no meat for hees familee ! 
Dat seem' to me de fuUish law. 
An' all de b'y' dey t'ink so too, 
An' w'en dey know de salmon ron 
De firs' dark night dey tak' canoe 
An' net' an' all aboar' for fon. 

01' Simon Murray go en garde. 
He dead now; good ol' feller too; 
He purty cute, an' he work hard 

46 



Nort' Shor' Verses 47 

A' paddlin' dat ol' canoe. 
Som' tarn me get de net jos' set 
An' dere de Simon 'long de shor' 
Mos' in de alder' he can get, — 
An' I don' feesh dat net no mor'. 



Some' tarn dey set an ol' net firs' 
An' set de good net up mor' high, 
So w'en he com' he tak' de wors' 
An' don' com' w'ere de oder lie. 
Som' tarn dey fool heem, som' tam no ; 
Som' tam dey mak' de dam good haul ; 
Som' tam he tak' de net an' go, 
An' dat's de way all t'rough de fall. 



I 'member me one treeck all right 
T'ree feller play on de ol' man; 
Dey know he com' down home one night 
An' so dose feller mak' de plan 
Dat tam dey go an' feesh de stream, 
An' so de ol' man never knew 
Dey pass hees place, dey tak' de team 
An' don' go up in de canoe. 



48 Nort' Shor' Verses 

Dat all work fine an' dere dey be. 
Dey tie de hors' a leetle back, 
An' bile de kettle for deir tea 
Afore de night com', black, black, black. 
Den een de bush' by de piquette, 
A-list'nin' for ol' Simon's pole, 
Dey hear de salmon strike de net, 
A-sploshin' w'en de mash tak' hoi'. 

Dat soun' good too ; dey know for sure 
Dey plaintee feesh for all han' dere 
W'en dey haul een an' mak' secure, — 
An' den out on de riviere 
Dey hear de cough ol' Simon mak', 
An' den dey hear heem bomp de float'; 
An' all de salmon in de tak' 
Seem tryin' to jomp een hees boat. 

Vite! vite! one of de feller say; 
Grab hoi' de seine an' de piquette 
An' han' dem een to me dis way; 
or Simon never tak' dis net. 
So den de feller w'at he tol' 
He tie her to de hors' een dere, 



Nort' Shor' Verses 49 

An' w'en oV Simon got de hoi' 
Dey h'ist heem out o'dat for fair. 

He com' right out o' de canoe, 
Den t'rough de mud up een de wood', 
or Simon an' de salmon too. 
An' de ol' man was bawlin' good. 
But dey don' stop de hors' at all. 
An' w'en he lose de hoi' bimeby, 
Dey kip on till dey out o' call 
An' den dey mos' near laff to die. 

An' so he never tak' dat net : 
Dey save her an' some feesh beside, 
An' w'en he get back w'ere she set 
Hees canoe gone off on de tide. 
He purty lame for walkin' too 
But he get down some tam nex' day. 
An' w'en he die he never knew 
Wat feller' haul deir net dat way. 



PHILOMELE 



"All dose my chile, an' dere* som' mor' 
A-ronnin' 'roun' de place som' w'ere. 
Dey de bes' crop on de Nort' Shor'; 
Dere ain' no harves' failin' dere 
Wen all de man be hommes gallants 
De way dey be een Canadaw. 

Sure, — w'en me see me know de name'; 

Dey got mos' all de name' dere be; 

De pries' he say las' tam he came 

He only got lef two or t'ree. 

Me don' know den w'at he mak' do, — 

An' still he give dat chile dere two. 

She christen' Agnes w'en she bom; 
Me t'ink dat six eight year ago ; 
An' den de oder chile dey lorn 
Dat mean de lamb, an' w'en dey know 
Dey holler "baa" w'en she go by 
An' w'en she hear, dat mak' her cry. 

50 



Nort' Shor' Verses 51 

So she don' lak be on de way 
For school nor erran' to de stor', 
An' w'en me tell de pries' he say- 
He won' have dose t'ing any mor'. 
He give her de new name she call' 
An' dey don' bodder her at all. 

So Philomele since den she be 
Dat tres jolie, me t'ink dat so. 
Wat ees dat t'ing you say to me? 
Dat mean de t'rosh you say you know? 
Mon Dieu, don' tell de oder chile 
Nor dey be w'istlin' all de w'ile. 

De pries' he feex t'ing up befor' 

An' put stop to dat fullish game, 

But me can't go to heem som' mor' 

An' ax heem for anoder name. 

He only got two t'ree mor' lef 

An' me 'n' ma femm.e need dose oursef. 



THE DANCE 

Wat shall I 'member me de mos' w'en I be ol' an' tire', 
A-waitin' for de spring to com' dat I shall never see, 
An' pass de tarn wit' de ol' pipe clos' up besi' de fire, 
A-seein' ol' face' een de smoke dat call de memorie' 
O' de tarn w'en de blood ron hot an' wil' 
An' de heart an' han' be strong; 
W'en livin' be som't'ing wort' w'ile 
An' life can' las' too long. 

Eet won' be de bigges' shot I mak' 
On de dock nor brant nor goose ; 
Eet won' be de tam I see me tak' 
To de tree from de beeg bull moose. 
Eet won' be de tam I mos' near die 
On de track o' de caribou; 
Eet won' be de tam I ketch outsi' 
Een de horricane dat blew, 

But me see een de smoke som' purty face' 
Wit' mout' pour les bees cheres, 
De ribbon' flyin' roun' de wais* 
An' flower' een de hair, 
52 



Nort' Shor' Verses 53 

An' me hear de soun' o' de stompin' feet 
Wile de feedle sing an' screech. 
Dat be de memorie mos' sweet — 
De dance off on de beach. 

De stomp an' de shoffle on de sand on de floor 
Soun' lak de growl o' de sea on de shor', 
An' pound on de brain lak de beat o' de drum, 
Tom-tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom-tor-raw-rom. 
De head go 'roun' an' de heart-beat com'; 
Tom-tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom-tor-raw-rom. 
De feller wit' de feedle don' mak' no soun'; 
Dose tune' he play mus' be sure get drown' 
In de tom-tor-raw-rom-tor-raw-rom. 

Wen de boss he com' an' he say shut her down 
Den all han' up for de all han' roun' 
To de tom-tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom-tor-raw-rom ; 
An' de girl all holler w'en he put out all de light', 
An' de feller' hoi' dem tight w'en dey pile out een de 

night 
Wit' de tom-tor-raw-rom still a-tompin' een de head 
An' on dose night' nobody go to bed, 
For de tom-tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom, 
Tor-raw-rom-tor-raw-rom-tor raw-rom. 



54 Nort' Shor' Verses 

I tak een all de dance' dere den, 
Firs' on de floor an' up de las', 
An' I don' mos' remember w'en 
I let de purty face go pas'. 
An' den one night at de Gullee 
I see a new girl t'rough de door, 
An' I know dat de girl for me. 
An' I no play dose game' no mor'. 

I ax her to dance an' she say dat she will do ; 
Tom-tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom; 
An' eet ain* very long afore I know dat she knew 
Dat I be her man an' her tarn com' too; 
T om-tor-raiv-rom, tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom; 
So I hug her tight an' she hug me som'; 
Tom-tor-raw-rom, tor-razv-rom, tor-raw-rom; 
Her feller see dat an' he want to mak' de fight. 
But I soon feex dat man all right. 
Tom-tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom; 
An' w'en all de light' dey go out, — no heed; 
De star' mak' all de light' we need. 
Tom-tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom; 
Tom-tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom. 



Nort' Shor' Verses 55 

Wen de fishin' be done, I sail her 'cross de bay, 
An' we go to de pries' an' be maries, 
An' de frien' an de neighbor' an' all han' com' 
An' dance t'ree day to de tom-tor-raw-rom, 
Tor-raw-rom, tor-razv-rom, tor-raiv-rom. 

Dose be de t'ing I 'member me w'en I be settin' so ; 

Dose be de fines' memories, so far I see dem now. 

Som' o' dose t'ing' I bes' forget dey be de one' won' go ; 

I s'pose dose oder face' sure com' een spite o'all de vow, 

Wit' de tom-tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom, 

Tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom. 

But eef she be dere so I hoi' her han' 

De waitin' won' be so hard to stan' 

For she hear too an' onderstan' 

De tom-tor-razv-rom-tor-raw-rom, tor-raw-rom, 

Tor-razv-rom, tor-raw-rom, tor-razv-rom. 



THE LAWSUIT 

Jim Rober'son he kip de stor', 
De one dey call Black Jim, 
An' Joe Connor he buy de flour, 
One barr'l off'n him. 
Joe never have no monnaie 'tall 
An' he boun' for de wood', 
An' give de order for hees peeg 
For mak' de bill stan' good. 

Jim haul de flour to hees place 

Wat de ol' woman kip, 

An' dere he see de fine yong peeg 

Besi' de door, aslip. 

So Jim he see he get de peeg 

But he don' not'ing say, 

An' t'ink he let her fat heem up 

'Fore takin' heem away. 

Well, dat raise hell; anoder man 
He com' wit order off'n Joe, 
An' after row wit' ol' woman 

56 



Nort' Shor' Verses 57 

He tak' de peeg an go. 

So w'en Jim t'ink he plaintee beeg 

An' tak' de team an call, 

Ba gee, he fin' he get no peeg, 

An' pork be high dat fall. 



Now Jim, he Jostice o' de Peace, 

An' w'en he hear Joe stay 

Back home ag'in, he sen' polis 

To sorve de papier 

Dat say Joe com' to co'rt dat day, 

An' give heem onderstan' 

Eef he don't get de monnaie pay' 

He fetch de peeg or man. 



O' co'rse de polis fin' no peeg, 
So he tak' hoi' o' Joe, 
An' Joe he swear an' talkin' beeg 
He be dam eef he go; 
But de polis he hoi' de grip 
An' chock heem een de team 
An' set on Joe de res' de trip 
He haul heem back to Jim. 



58 Nort' Shor' Verses 

He shov' Joe een de back room dere 
Were Jim tak' heem een han' 
An' say he got dat treeck to square 
Or to de jail he Ian'. 
Den Joe he try to mak' de sneak 
An' get out t'rough de door, 
But Jim an' de polis grab queeck 
An' all han' to de floor. 



De table fall, de stove she go, 
De chair dey keeck aroun', 
An' mak dat room de holy show 
Wile dey hoF Connor down. 
Bimeby dey feex heem so he lay; 
He don' fool dem, no fear. 
Wen een walk oder man an' say 
"Dey tell Joe Connor here." 



*'He be," say Jim, "dat's true dey tol;" 

An' den de feller say, 

"Com' Joe, how 'bout dat peeg you stole 

Wen you leave me las' May?" 

"By dam," say Jim, "dat leave me beat; 



Nort' Shor' Verses 59 

De peeg an' case I los' ; — " 

An' den he stan' Joe on hees feet — 

**But I collec' de cos'." 

De firs' ponch hit heem een de eye, 
De nex' one on de jaw; 
Sure, Joe don' need look at de sky 
For watch de star' he saw. 
Den Jim he say to oder man 
"You bes' collec' your pay 
Wile de co'rt an' polls on han' 
See he don' get away." 

Well, w'en dat feller he get t'rough 

Joe look lak' he gone blin'. 

An' sure he mus' be black an' blue 

Wit' keeck on de behin'. 

An' den dey t'row heem out de door, 

An' w'ile he ron away 

De feller' standin' front de stor' 

T'ink jostice done dat day. 



THE SINKBOX 

At las' de brant com' in de bay. 

Dey com' on de nor-wes' win' las' night. 

Dis evenin' I hear feller say 

He see dem on de bar' a fright. 

Sure I don' lose anoder day 

If de sinkbox be dry an' tight. 

I wish I know dey com' ba gee ! 
If she float at all I be out dere, 
Waitin' for bre'k o' day to see, 
Hearin' de callin' in de air; 
I rader lie in de sinkbox, me, 
Dan any oder t'ing I care. 

It don' seem lak dere be moch fun 
A-startin' out beneat' de star' 
In de col' win' to mak de run 
Across de bay down to de bar' 
An' get all set afore de sun 
Com' up and show dem w'ere you are, 
60 



Nort' Shor' Verses 6i 

But dere som' t'ing about dat game 
If you don't know it can' be tol'. 
Som' way it alway' be de same, 
Som' way it never seem grow ol', 
An' in de heart it mak' de fiame 
Dat kip out all de wet and col', 

Down in de box de win' don' blow, 
So I light up de pipe mebbe, 
An' watch de star' as out dey go 
Wile de sun crawl up out de sea 
An' warm de sky into de glow 
Were jus' afore de black night be. 

'Bout den de plover start de cry 
Off on de ma'sh by de sandhill. 
'Bout den de gull' begin to fly 
T'rough de dim light so gray an' still 
You t'ink, as dey go driftin' by 
Dey ghost' o' oder bird' you kill. 

Den com' de shelldock an' de coot' 
But me no t'ink dey wort' de shell'. 
Ba gee, dat tam I mos' near shoot! 



62 Nort' Shor' Verses 

Som' tarn dose shag be hard to tell. 
Ah ! see dose black dock mak' de scoot ! 
Dey look in to de box too well. 

An' den ker-r-ruck, ker-r-ruk soun' clear 

Across de Vv^in', an' on de sky 

I see dem makin' de straight steer 

Wit' de decoy right in de eye. 

Kip down an' dey com' plaintee near. 

Now up, an' let bot' barrel' fly! 

Well, it's dose t'ing you don' forget. 
I rader see dose beatin' wing 
W'en in to de decoy dey set 
Dan any oder livin' t'ing. 
Ouai, more nor de salmon in de net, 
Nor listen to de robin sing. 

It all mak' plaintee yarn, no fear, 
An' me, I tol' jus' one to you, 
^ About de man I guide las' year 

An' w'at I tell I see him do. 
Ba gee, dere ain' no man roun' here 
Care try an' put de sam' treeck t'rough. 



Nort' Shor' Verses 63 

We set on de deep flat' dat day ; 
Las' year de eel-grass t'ick for fair. 
I tol' him 'fore I go away 
De water deep an' he tak' care 
Don' fill de box so long he stay, 
Or he drown 'fore I get back dere. 

So off I go an' down he lie. 
Long tarn it don' seem be much use. 
Som' flock o' brant go flyin' by 
But for de decoy' mak' refuse, 
An' den I see off on de sky 
Below de box an' ol' gray goose. 

He lower in an' set de wing; 

My man got sure shot I be boun', 

But he don' seem to see not'ing, 

Wen bang, de smoke com' out de groun' 

An' den de oder barrel bring 

De ol' gray goose a-tumblin' down. 

An' den my feller wave his arm' 

An' holler lak he all possess'. 

I don' see how he com' to harm; 



64 Nort' Shor' Verses 

Mebbe de goose swim off I guess. 
In dere de grass mak' plaintee calm, 
But I h'ist up an' do my bes'. 

Me jus' in tam; in de canoe 
I haul him out an' down she roll. 
An' w'at you t'ink dat feller do? 
He shoot de box, his hand' so col'. 
An' den he tak' de ol' goose too 
An' pull de shell' an' plug de hole! 

Dat tak' mos' nerve I never saw. 
An' now he gone to war away 
To fight for France an* Canadaw. 
I t'ink if he boss dose armees 
Some tam he feex dat emperaw 
Jus' lak he feex dat goose dat day. 



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